


a remnant trace, a glimpse of you

by Pomfry



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion, Arranged Marriage, Falling In Love, Featuring Sanji as Rose, M/M, Pining, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Zoro as Jack, and Luffy as new money
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 17:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21359962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomfry/pseuds/Pomfry
Summary: The Titanic is the ship of dreams. For Sanji, it's anything but.
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy/Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	a remnant trace, a glimpse of you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snurps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snurps/gifts).

> For my wonderful friend Amy! I hope you enjoy it :p

The table is overflowing with food. Sanji watches as the servants twirl around each other, flashes of color and glinting golden plates, with a sense of numbness in his chest. Pudding sits beside him, brown hair curled perfectly into her signature hairstyle, and her arms curl around his elbow. Father watches him from across the table, Big Mom grinning at them all, and Sanji’s heart is in his throat.

“I think that we have something to discuss,” Father says, Reiju at his elbow. Sanji doesn’t react, plate untouched, even as Pudding nods.

“Yes,” she agrees, her voice soft and musical. “We do.” She lays her head on his shoulder, hanging earrings swinging, then glances up at him through her eyelashes. “Sanji? What do you think?”

He opens his mouth, hyperaware of how everyone is looking at him, and his voice can’t come out. He closes his lips with a click of his teeth. Father grips his clutery and looks at him with sharp eyes.

“I can only imagine how excited Sanji is,” Reiju says for him, giving him a gentle nudge against his leg as she does so. “It is his only wish to unite our two families.”

Yonji grins as he cuts into his bloody steak, the knife scraping against the ceramic. “I think that Sanji is scared.”

Ichiji laughs, as though he could feel any emotion besides sadistic glee. “Are you, Sanji?” He takes a bite of broccoli, chewing slowly. “You always were weak.”

Niji hums, taking a sip of deep red wine. It stains his lips a pale red. “I don’t think that’s it. I just think that he doesn’t wish to marry.” He smiles over his glass, eyes glinting maliciously. “Is that it, Sanji?”

The room falls silent at his words. Sanji’s throat is dry. He places his hands in his lap to hide the way they shake. Pudding curls her arms tighter, looking at her mother. Big Mom has stopped eating entirely.

“I…” Sanji trails off, then clears his throat. “I do wish to marry, Pudding. I love her, and there is nothing else I want than to live my life with her.”

It’s all a lie. Sanji was caught four years ago at the age of seventeen; he was living as a chef, then, working at a restaurant he had been recently hired at after he ran away from Zeff. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away forever. His family is a monster in the technology and weapons field, and they would be able to find him wherever he went, no matter how much Reiju had tried to sabotage his family behind their backs. But Zeff had taught him how to cook, had given him a home with nothing other than a gruff, “Brat.”

And Sanji was grateful to him, will _ always _ be grateful to him. That’s why he left and ran so far away that Zeff couldn’t find him. As strong as Zeff is, as strong as he _ was, _he is no match against his brothers, against his father.

There is nothing else Sanji wants than to be with Zeff at the Baratie.

Sanji smiles tightly. “I am speechless with excitement.”

Big Mom looks at him for a long moment, scrutinizing him, a cookie held in her large hand. Sanji doesn’t dare look her in the eyes, cautiously picking up a fork and taking a delicate bite of mashed potatoes.

It's been a week since he last cooked. His hands are starting to itch.

Katakuri looms from behind Reiju, gaze on him, and Sanji knows that he’s reading him and trying to see his next move. Sanji is only fooling Pudding. He has no hopes of fooling Katakuri.

He merely takes a sip of water. He doesn’t trust them not to drug his drink and brought his own. It made Big Mom laugh when she saw it.

“Where is the wedding going to be?” he asks quietly, after a moment of pure silence and his nerves being rubbed raw. He feels like he’s going to scream.

Pudding sighs dreamily, resting her head on his shoulder. “Mama says she wants it to be in one of her territories “We’ll be heading to a place called Biscuit.”

“Biscuit?” Sanji repeats nervously. “I’ve never heard of that place.”

“You wouldn’t,” says Father cooly. “It’s not well known.”

“I see.”

Sanji curls his hands into fists, smiling. It hurts to do it, but this is his chance, maybe. “Where is it?”

“Overseas,” Big Mom rumbles, and Sanji’s heart skips a beat. Overseas. Overseas. A place where his family doesn’t have as much power, where Big Mom’s influence is weaker—

That may be his chance.

“I understand,” he says. He doesn’t speak again until Reiju corners him after dinner, fingers gripping his shirt with a strength that isn’t natural.

“Sanji,” she says urgently. “Father is the only one coming with you.” Sanji blinks at her, and she shakes him. “Sanji, _ nobody is coming with you other than Father and Pudding.”_

And he remembers, abruptly, of the fact that Reiju is the one who freed him. That his sister is the one who arranged for him to get on that boat, that she is the one who paid for his ticket and gave him money. She is the one who did that with no thought for her own safety and even though she refuses to tell him what Father did to her in retaliation, Sanji has seen the scars on her arms, on her back. Torture, or further experimentation, or even lashes because Father is truly an archaic and cruel person, for all that he claims to love his family and strive towards the future.

She doesn’t speak of it. Her pain receptors were numbed but he knows—_ knows _ that she is the most human out of all his siblings. That she felt the pain as he would when it happened, would have screamed, and Father wouldn’t have hesitated at the sound of it. He certainly never did when Sanji screamed.

His own scars ache at the thought.

“Reiju,” he starts, something hurt and lonely opening inside him, and he doesn't even know what he’s going to say, but his sister cuts him off before he even begins.

“Don’t,” she sighs. “We both know Father won’t let me come after what I did.” She brushes her fingers against his face, soft as a feather, and Sanji leans into it without meaning to. She smiles, the expression making her face startlingly similar to their mother’s. “Sanji, this is your chance. Don’t waste it.”

“I—“

She pushes a piece of paper into his hands, presses her lips to his forehead, and then steps back. “Father has the tickets. Don’t read this until you’re sure that nobody is looking.”

He grips the paper tight, eyes stinging at how far Reiju is going, at far Reiju _ will _ go to help him be free. “Reiju…”

She shakes her head as she turns, her dress flaring around her hips. “Don’t bother. Just—please. Don’t mess up.”

Sanji doesn’t stop her. He knows it’s useless. He just stays there, leaning against the wall and biting his lip. Katakuri walks by at least ten minutes later, Pudding chattering on at his side, and his family doesn’t even come into his line of sight.

Sanji sinks down to the ground, curls his legs to his chest, and quietly, slowly, shudderingly—begins to cry. It tears him apart, the sound clawing out of his throat and making him taste blood. But it’s quiet all the same; he learned long ago to sob silently. Any louder and he would be found.

The paper remains clutched in his fist even after his brothers find him. He doesn’t ever let it go.

* * *

Luffy isn’t one for tradition. The little island his grandfather left him on didn't treat him any differently than anyone else, and the clothes his grandfather sometimes made him wear were always stiff and tore way too easily. Not to mention the _ people._

People on the mainland always seem stupid. So worried about what people think and what to wear. Luffy grew up in a forest, jumping into lakes and getting so dirty his brothers had to dump water on him so he wouldn't get the bathroom dirty.

So, no. Luffy isn't one for tradition. He isn't inclined to ever be.

Gramps never seemed to care either; when he made Luffy come with him to parties, Luffy could see that he hated it. Gramps always eats more when he’s in a place he hates.

And now, Luffy understands why. Dressed in ugly clothes with an even uglier man sitting across from him, he really wants something to eat. He’s not even hungry! He just wants to have something to _ do._

“Why do I have to go?” he whines, flopping on his stomach. Ugly twitches. “Why can’t Ace just come see me?”

“Because,” Ugly says harshly, “your grandfather said you had to. Now sit up, you’re the grandson of Garp. Act like it.”

Luffy sticks his tongue out, pulls the stupid tie loose, and stays on his stomach. “Hey, Ugly, why didn’t Gramps come get me himself?”

“My name is _ Sakazuki,” _ Ugly snaps, which Luffy promptly ignores. “Garp can’t come get you because he’s being held up. So that’s why _ I’m _taking you.”

Luffy scowls. “I don’t care about that,” he mutters mutinously. “But why do I have to come?”

“Because,” Ugly snarls, then takes a breath. “Get presentable. We’re going to stop soon.”

Luffy rolls his eyes in the same way he saw Sabo do when he and Gramps visited his family home (which Gramps then decimated as Sabo watched with glee) and pointedly does not. He doesn’t really _ know _ what Gramps does, but it can’t be that important. Sure, Gramps has money but he never uses it. At least, not in front of Luffy. If anything he would spend it on food.

“I don’t care what we’re doing,” he says crossly. “Where’s Ace anyway?”

Ugly grinds his teeth together, a sight which makes Luffy smile with malicious joy. “He’s in the mainland,” he grits out. “Garp sent me to pick you up so you can see him.”

“So what are we _ doing here?” _Luffy wrinkles his nose at the sight of the city outside his window. “Why did we have to go from my island to this place, just so we can go—“

“On the Titanic,” Ugly interrupts. “It’s one of the fastest ships on the sea and our way to the mainland.”

Luffy makes a noise of discontent. He just _ knows _ he’s gonna have to act all proper and stuff, which _ sucks. _ The people who want him to act like that are always so stupid and stuffy. He doesn’t care what they think of them but he has a feeling Ugly does, which would make things difficult to a point. He has a feeling Ugly won’t let him out of his sight if he could help it.

Luffy smiles at that. He’s grown up in a forest. This guy doesn’t stand a chance.

“Sit. Up.”

He wrinkles his nose and does so but he doesn’t fix his tie or his jacket. Black is such a weird color. Red is a lot better, and is such a happier color.

Ugly reaches out to grab him by the collar and forcefully fix his clothes. “You’re the grandson of _ Garp,” _ he mutters as he pushes the tie up so fast that Luffy wheezes. “Don’t you care about his reputation?”

“Why would I care about _ that?”_

Ugly sighs, so heavily and so tiredly that Luffy bursts into laughter, a bright _ shishishi _ that makes Ugly twitch. He’s missed doing that to people. The people on his island have gotten used to him, unfortunately.

The carriage comes to a stop, the crowd outside loud and their conversations indistinct thanks to the barrier between them. Luffy puts his hat on his head, grimaces at the soft leather boots on his feet that Ugly forced him into, and slams the door open. People scatter in their surprise, looking on with wide eyes as he sticks his head out, blinking in surprise at the large ship moored at the dock.

“Woah!” he shouts, jumping onto the ground. “That’s so cool!”

_ “Monkey D. Luffy,” _ Ugly snarls as he lumbers out of the carriage. Luffy doesn’t pay attention to him, already darting through the crowds. There’s a man with blond hair and a swirled eyebrow with a woman on his arm, and Luffy brushes past him without a thought. The fancy people are all _ boring _and Luffy fits in with the people who aren’t them better.

A man with green hair wanders around, brow furrowed, as a orange-haired woman screams at him from a distance. Luffy laughs with delight, hopping up to the roof a carriage and watching as everyone pushes their way through, their destinations always the ship that looms over them. As much as he loves his island, he has to admit that the mainland is so much more fun. _ Especially _the people. They’re never sure how to act around him.

“MONKEY!” Ugly shouts from where he’s standing by the ship, their luggage at his feet. Luffy wrinkles his nose—_ dammit, _ he can just tell that people are gonna treat him _ weird _—but jumps down anyway. Ugly grabs him by the arm the moment he’s near, and Luffy would punch him but Gramps would be pissed so he doesn’t.

“Sakazuki and Monkey D. Luffy,” he says gruffly as he hands over two pieces of paper. The marine on duty does a double take at their names and doesn’t even glance at their tickets before waving them on board.

Luffy gives the dock one last wistful floor before he’s dragged into the depths of the ship.

* * *

Nami, Zoro decides, is a witch.

This isn’t the first time he’s thought this; far from it. Nami has been with him since he was seventeen and he hasn't changed his opinion on her once. Nami will do anything for money and even more than that for her family, and has swindled maritime merchants more times than Zoro can count. She’s sitting on a pile of Beri that she’s planning to use for her sister’s college debt. She’s always looking for more money to add to it.

Such as playing poker for two tickets on the most anticipated voyage of the year.

Nami’s charming smile doesn’t give away a thing as she looks at her cards. Zoro stays looming behind her, arms crossed across his broad chest, and generally makes her opponents nervous. The fact that he has three swords helps too.

He doesn’t bother looking at Nami’s cards. Even if she loses, she’ll steal her potential profits right back anyway. He just has to look tough.

“Royal Flush,” Nami says sweetly as she sets down her cards. Zoro has no doubt that she rigged the game somehow; she never takes risks where she isn’t at least ninety percent certain will end in her favor.

The two men in front of her narrow their eyes as they slowly set down their own cards. The other one has a Royal Flush as well. Nami’s eyes slide halfway shut as she leans back in her chair, one leg lifting to cross over the other.

“Well,” she purrs. “It seems like one of us cheated.” She opens her hands as if to show there’s no possible way for her to have cheated. With her tank top and shirt, it does seem impossible. Zoro knows better, of course, but they don’t.

The restaurant falls silent, staring in silent awe at the scene. Nami is known as a skilled card player around here, one who wins almost all of her gambles, but these guys aren’t from the area. So they don’t know that Nami would win anyway and that Zoro is more than happy to cut them up if they try to attack her. He’s nice like that.

“It must’ve been you,” one of the men growl, rising from his seat. Nami raises one eyebrow back, perfectly calm as she looks at her nails.

“Really,” she replies flatly. “I don’t think so. I’m not a cheater.”

She is, but Zoro isn’t going to say anything to contradict her.

“Nobody ever gets two Royal Flushes.”

“It’s rare but it does happen,” Nami hums. “Look, I set mine down first which means I win.” She reaches out to grab her wins when Wado Ichimonji cuts through the air in front of her. She glances up at Zoro.

“Might want to let that knife go,” Zoro rumbles, “or else you’ll lose something important.”

Nami takes a deep breath, then turns to them. “Nobody likes sore losers.”

A moment of silence, and then chaos erupts.

Nami grabs most of the money and one ticket while Zoro throws himself forward, one hand grabbing the knife that he hides in his belt. The other man grabs the ticket and pulls out a pistol, and Zoro can’t be in two places at once. With a grunt, he swings his foot around and scores a deep cut in one of the men’s chests before launching himself at the other one.

The window shatters when Nami throws someone through it, and Zoro follows with the other ticket clutched in one hand. It’s mildly blood covered, to a point, but readable enough. Nami has the other one, so she can still make a profit, somewhat.

Maybe.

Nami grabs his arm and pulls him into an alleyway, pressing him against the wall. Zoro goes with it, watching as Nami pretends to cry against his shirt. He rests a hand on her shoulder, patting it awkwardly. He’s never been good with emotions, faked or not.

A minute later, Nami takes a step back and flicks her hair over her shoulder. She smiles, cat-like, and says, “You know, I can make a lot of money off of these.”

Zoro raises a brow. “The ship is leaving today, will you even have time?”

“Of course,” Nami scoffs. “Who do you think I am?”

Zoro sighs. “Alright, alright.” He stretches his arms above his head, yawning. “I’m gonna go sleep.”

He walks away, intending to go to his hole-in-the-wall apartment he shares with Usopp, but the streets keep on moving beneath his feet. Zoro frowns in confusion as a person in black rushes past him, then turns around when he hears Nami screaming at him.

He starts to head towards her when she disappears and then he’s on the ramp. Marines pat him down, take out a piece of paper, and they luckily don’t get their hands cut off. He walks in and the door shuts behind him. Zoro looks back, looks down at himself, and curses.

Ah, fuck. Nami’s gonna kill him.


End file.
